


Conceivable

by Valkywrite



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Body Modification, F/M, Genderbending, Genderfluid, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Graphic Description, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Torture, Internalized Misogyny, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Multi, Politics, Post Avengers, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Sexual Content, Shapeshifter Loki, Torture, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:26:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkywrite/pseuds/Valkywrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jane returns with Thor to Asgard as his bride-to-be, it is learned she cannot bear Asgardian children, a serious blow to the throne. Loki, ever the trickster, decides to win favor back with Odin and Thor by remedying the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conceivable

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: MPREG, Graphic. Refers back to Loki’s previous pregnancy, with Sleipnir. Hela makes an appearance. Some misogyny on Loki and Odin’s part at different times. References to Loki’s torture under the Chitauri. Be warned, I’m doing my best not to woobify Loki because the "poor villain" has been given enough excuses and leniency in my opinion. I love the character, regardless.
> 
> Notes: Norse-myth crossover. Attempt at a believable movie/mythverse. Post-Avengers. Take note, I have time running differently in Asgard than it does on earth so if I write season, it might mean the equivalent of month to them.
> 
> Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Marvel and I obviously do not own Norse myths. Hell, if I did, I would not be in my shitty house—I’d probably be chilling in a penthouse with a mug of tea.
> 
> Author’s Note: You might have noticed that this was originally from a different writer—well, I am the same author, but I’ve just moved myself from FF.net to A03. Forgive this very, very long wait and change. College has been incredibly draining of my time. Now, I’m teaching, so my time’s not as restricted yet I’m still busy. I may update anywhere from every two to four months depending on time constraints and length. I'm editing this to the best of my abilities, but if I miss something, I apologize. I have a degree in English and in the Liberal Arts, so I feel like I should be able catch these things.

  
****Prologue** **

* * *

     Once upon a rather dark time, Loki tried to stop the builders of the Asgardian wall. Tried and was fairly successful. Became a mare and everything. After a species switch, he gave birth to that damnably fast eight-legged horse his father now rode. It had not been a particularly pleasant experience for him: giving birth to that creature. But at least he had succeeded in his plan to slow the building of Asgard’s Wall. The builder was understandably upset that his horse, the strong stallion Svaðilfari, had run off and sired something, that something being Loki, Asgard’s very own god of Mischief. And that plan had been mischievious indeed. His father now owned and rode his son, Sleipnir. How terribly _wrong_ that sounded, but nevertheless it was correct.

    But that was only one of his antics that had landed him into this new Hel. Nearly a thousand years of mischeivous activities and a lying tongue had earned him new names. Liesmith, Trickster, Mistress Mischief, Demon, Frostchild, Jotunn, Shapeshifter, and now Warwreaker. He had really done it now. His last mischievous attempt, done out of anger at his father, at the lies he was forced to live, had cost him dearly. He had failed. Those damned Avengers completely ruined him. He lost favor and was now a prisoner in Asgard. He had a new name added onto his list of already unfavorable names: Prisoner Prince.

     And here he was, stuck in this cell, unable to watch the ceremony going on behind the magicked cell bars. He could hear the laughter and joy, the dancing, and the drinking. He could hear his brother’s booming laugh from behind the door. He could hear a bit of Lady Jane’s tinkling laughter underneath, her friend, the maid, and that Darcy girl, snorting. He heard the Good Doctor Selvig chuckling forcibly seeing as how the events of Loki’s last escapade affected his spirit poorly. He heard Fandral and Volstagg acting out a scene from one of Fandral’s many written works, plays, as Midgardians liked to call them. Unfortunately, Fandral, instead of Loki, now had the task of playing the woman’s role. However, Sif always wanted the male roles, and always refused any female role she was ever offered, leaving Fandral the somewhat difficult task of portraying a woman. Hogun, the only other beardless member of the Warriors Three and Lady Sif, simply didn’t participate in these plays. Loki was always perfect for the woman’s role: his shapeshifting abilities allowed him to literally portray himself as a woman. Complete with working parts and all. This didn’t mean he enjoyed it in any particular way—in some ways he found it degrading. He preferred the male anatomy. With this thought, he supposed it was a good thing he wasn’t participating in this event. The new Lady Jane may have found that a bit…odd.

     Mortals didn’t shapeshift and most Midgardians were gender sensitive. Asgardians had their own preferences, but Loki, yes, Loki the Winter Wizard, Laufeyson, the Bastard, was different. He preferred the male body to a female one. Why? Well, besides it being degrading to be a member of the weaker sex, it was also because it was less of a mess, if he had to be honest. He had learned that important fact once while in one of his early shapeshifting learning staes. He was young. He was stupid, just as he had been with the whole ‘Wall’ incident. He wondered why Sif nearly went on a murderous rampage every season or so—he sensed something different about her. So, of course, the god of mischief, true to his nature, bored out of his mind one day, decided to find out why. He changed the bottom half of his body to the Asgardian female anatomy so there would be little observable difference, and for a while, he failed to see what all the fuss was about. Until the dawn of the next season arrived, and then something changed.

     The blood flow and pain was horrendous. Every inch of his being seemed on edge, and there were days where he felt like beating his brother to a pulp for his stupidity, or bursting into tears because none of the Warriors Three would understand. Thor was not partial to this change at all. Loki felt compassion and sympathy of Sif, and after he couldn’t stand the body anymore, he found himself more and more in the Lady Sif’s company.

     Lady Sif finally asked Loki to stop visiting her. People were starting to talk. Loki was at first bewildered by this request, but he suddenly realized that the world of women was far more complex than just the damnable moon cycle, birth and child-rearing. He realized that Lady Sif, who often spent her days training with the Warriors Three, also spent time with the ladies of the Asgardian court. It was only because she had really no choice in the matter; she would rather be in the company of Thor and the Warriors Three on any given day. Regardless, the ladies of the court believed that Lady Sif and Loki were courting. Loki, slightly appalled and slightly amused by the thought, pushed it aside and agreed to spend less time by the Lady Sif’s side. Besides, he was still in his prime. He didn’t have to decide who to spend a thousand-something odd years with just yet.

     And now, he was missing out on the glorious fun, sitting inside a massive Asgardian cell with Heimdall as guard. Heimdall was elected to be a rather frequent guard of Loki’s. He would occassionally resume his duties as Gate Guard, but right now he was dutifully at his new post. It was because the muzzle only worked on Loki for a very brief time. It didn’t take long for Loki to figure out how to maneuver around it: instead of using verbal suggestions, he used mental suggestions to get the previous guards to release him from the cage. Of course, Loki didn’t get very far—the room was magically shielded, and Loki had no way of opening it without some serious study first. It was only then that the Asgardians realized it would keep much more than that to keep Loki locked away safely. Since that first incident upon his arrival, Odin forced Frigga to suppress his magic to the core. Now, Loki was stuck here. With Heimdall casually observing his every move, never responding to any of Loki’s annoying queries.

    Heimdall could see all and was used to Loki’s lies. He was impervious to Loki’s magical suggestions. He was the perfecti fit; only with the Bifrost box could Loki ever even hope to defeat him, and even that was difficult since Heimdall had already seen that trick already. A new guard was currently taking over as Gate Guard: Heimdall’s apprentice Stallan. Now, if only Loki could get to him, he could break out of Asgard and begin ruling the now crumbling Jotunheim. Yes, prison had only allowed Loki more time to come up with more ways to eventually regain power. The doors were thrust open and a somewhat drunken Thor burst through the room with his new bride, the Lady Jane F—well, the “Foster” was gone now. Lady Jane had agreed to marry Thor after the Avengers saved New York from Loki’s army. She had requested that her friends, the Good Doctor Selvig and Darcy, attend the Asgardian wedding. They were outside, still enjoying the festivities and would probably remain in Asgard’s halls for a season or so. Festivities were very long in Asgard. Life was long for them, so why not?

     “Ah-blushing bride and bubbling brother! Have you come to say hello to the poor prisoner?” Loki asked quietly, his shoes tapping gently against the base of magicked cell.

     “On the Lady Jane’s insistence,” Thor said, glaring at Loki and ignoring Heimdall. “She wanted to visit her new brother-in-law. Though I hardly know why, given that he’s a traitor to Asgard and enemy of Midgard.”

     These last words were spoken with spittle spewed in every direction. _Ah, loathing_ , Loki thought. Loki looked towards Lady Jane. Her dark brown hair was tied up, and fell in rows of loose curls around the nape of her neck. Frigga’s work, undoubtedly. Her neck was graced with a long diamond choker that draped from the midneck down. The white wedding dress glided down her natural curves, her hips, and then trailed behind her like the Riving Iving, always separating Asgard from Jotunheim—separating Jane from Loki. It took a few moments before that to realize he was fantasizing about his brother’s wife. He recovered himself, and looked into Jane’s flawless, but now hardened face.

     “I wish you well on your wedding night,” Loki said hurriedly, careful not to look at Thor’s eyes. “I’m sure it will be…pleasurable, if I know my brother.” Loki heard a deep rumble from Thor’s chest. _A growl?_

     “Do not be so loose with your tongue, brother,” Thor warned. “Or I shall order Heimdall to have you muzzled again.”

      Loki nodded, putting a finger to his lips, and snaked his other hand around the cell bars. “I apologize, Lady Jane. I was only thinking of my brother’s happiness,” Loki said, and bowed his head apologetically.

     Much to his surprise, a smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, but she quickly stifled it with a twitch. “I hope that your behavior continues to improve while I am your sister-in-law,” she said calmly. “I understand this prison sentence might just give you the time needed to reflect on what you’ve managed to do to New York.”

     Loki broke into one of his bright, infamous smiles. It was one of his many signs of repulsion and insincerity. “Perhaps it will also give me time to read up on the many facets of Midgardian philosophy, so that if one day I do manage to get out and visit Midgard again, I should be able to do it with all the decorum your planet deserves.”

     This was more truth than it was a threat. His mother brought him all sorts of books relating to Midgard in the hopes that he would learn to appreciate the culture and planet as Thor had. He doubted he would ever learn to appreciate it as Thor had—Thor appreciated it so much he took a wife from Midgard. She might have had the Asgardian spirit, but she would not live for another hundred years. Her aging would devastate Thor. How old was she now in human years—29? She might reach 90 in Asgard, but only if she was lucky enough to have those genes of longevity. _No, Odin could not grant her extra life, nor could Thor keep her from aging. She would die a prisoner inside Asgard_ , Loki thought. _Like me._

    Noticing Thor’s dangerous mood shift, he quickly changed subjects. “Yes, and I hope you bless my dear brother Thor with many children. I am looking forward to meeting my nieces and nephews,” Loki said hoarsely, his voice cracking with pity while glaring at Heimdall.

     Heimdall, noting Thor’s sudden move from stifled fury to nearly grabbing Mjolnir, immediately stepped forward, brought his staff to his side, and pressed a hand to Thor’s chest. “Odinson, do not mistake his words for lies. He is truly blessing you. He has used no spell; his tongue is not chiding you or the Lady Jane in anyway.”

     Thor took his hand away from Mjolnir. “I believe you, Heimdall,” he whispered. He then looked back at Loki, his face and eyes softened. “Brother, I hope one day to bless you with nieces and nephews you can visit…outside of this cage. Have you found a way to convince Father to give you back your freedom?”

     Loki stared at his feet. _Of course not. I’ve only thought of ways to escape_ , he thought. “Unfortunately, there is no way, brother. Odin has made me an eternal prisoner, at least for the time being. Why else would he place me in this cell with Heimdall as my keeper? I am sure to eventually fade away here. I am sure I will never be needed unless there is a call to war. And will there be? Not while Odin is in power. I will never be granted my freedom again.” Heimdall gave a warning stare at Loki, dark eyebrows furrowing well below his golden helmet.

     Thor shot Loki a look of pure irritation. His words were careful, and with these careful words came a modicum of deceit. He would resort to cunning, to mental suggestion of his own brother if necessary. He knew these tricks, but for now, to keep up the jovial feel of the night, he said, “Well then, brother, I wish you will this night. I regret that you were unable to attend our wedding ceremony. Thank you for your…blessing.”

    As the Lady Jane and Thor walked out, Thor picked up Jane and twirled her around in his arms. “Well, I suppose we will have a wonderful wedding night, won’t we?” Jane let out a breathless laugh and the nearly intoxicated pair kissed; it was one of the sloppiest kisses Loki had ever seen and the sight made him mentally gag.

    They left and Loki was once again, thankfully, alone. _I know she’ll make him happy. But her death will only make him remember and regret,_ Loki thought. _Perhaps her children will be what makes him happy. They’ll live longer. And with any luck, they’ll conceive tonight_. The luck, he would later come to realize, would eventually fall into the arms of Loki Laufeyson.


End file.
